Conversations
by Natasha Vloyski
Summary: Each person is interviewed and talks about what happened. Revealing! Startling! Surprising! Interactive. Ask your questions and have them answered.
1. Chapter 1

Conversations

Ch 1 Malfoy

"You have to understand that I was raised by my father. He was Voldemort's right-hand man. He thought that there would be a place for him with the Dark Lord. No one knew that he had made Horcruxes and was all but immortal. Anyway, looking back, I believe Harry Potter was the bravest boy that I ever knew. I can't say that I ever liked him...in fact, I made it my duty to make his life miserable. It was expected of me you see. In the long run that was necessary for my own survival. Voldemort-let alone my father- would not have allowed me to live if they saw any weakness on my part. They expected and demanded loyalty."

"Potter did come up with a spell one time that was just nasty. I still bear the scars from it. Luckily, Snape was there to heal me or I think I should have died. I think my father would have even been impressed."

"Was he a better wizard than me? I would certainly say he had a different style. Of course, I come from generations of pure-blood wizards who have magic running in their blood. They don't think twice about it. He is half-muggle born and knew nothing of magic until he was eleven. I should say that he needed a lot of catching up.. Yes...there was natural talent there, but he never showed himself to be an exceptional wizard while at Hogwarts."

"How did he manage to kill Voldemort then if he was a mediocre wizard? I wish I knew. Of course, Dumbledore was helping him. Other teachers liked him, too and I never could understand it. But there were things going on that I don't even know about, although I made it a practice to eavesdrop on my father at every opportunity. Still, Potter slipped out of every trap laid for him and survived while others didn't . The last trap was even developed by Voldemort himself and it was ingenious. As I said, I still don't know to this day how he survived."

"He did come to see me at Azkaban after the war. We talked for over an hour. I won't tell you the contents of the conversation, not to you or to anyone. But I will say that I am here because of it and didn't die in that stinking prison. I still can't bring myself to be grateful since it was he that put me there in the first place. I guess I should have expected it. But when I was young my arrogance got in the way. I would never have believed that our side would lose."

"Hermione Granger? Well she was a muggle-born wasn't she? From the moment I was born I was told that the mudbloods were polluting our civilization and nothing good would come of it. I have to admit she was quite a brilliant girl...witch. Some would say I am getting soft in my old age just by calling her that."

"I guess I should give her credit. I think if it weren't for her Potter would never have survived. At least that is what I have heard."

" She was always getting the best of grades at school. But I believe most of her skills she learned in books. At least Potter's father was a pureblood, wasn't he? Still she could perform some spells that were pretty wicked. I'm not saying I ever liked her. It just wasn't in my nature."

"I've heard that she has done well for herself. Ended up teaching at Hogwarts. She never married but I always thought she and Potter were lovers. Still they didn't end up together did they?" He shrugged again.

"Why didn't I take my father's place? That's very simple. I didn't want to die in the same way he did. I suppose you could say that my mother's influence did that to me. I wasn't ever as cold and hard as he wanted me to be although I did try. And he did end up in a horrible way."

"Well I suppose you could say his destiny was to die as a martyr to the cause. He was a warrior I must give him that. And in my heart I wish that I could have loved him and he; me. He chose the wrong wizard to admire and follow. Yet, they were alike in many ways."

" I made the horrible mistake of taking the Dark Lord's mark just to show my father. I think I wanted...I think I wanted him to say something kind to me. Just once. It is still on my arm, although faded. And it still hurts sometimes. I suppose that there is a residue of the Dark Lord left there."

He studied his arm, covered by a sleeve and raised his head and stared at me with filmy white-blue eyes. There was pain in those eyes and...fear. "I still have bad dreams you see."

He was inattentive for a moment and then said, "They were all insane you know. Even my father. But at the time it felt like I was on the right side."

"What do I think of Severus Snape? Well he is still a friend to me although I don't know why. When I saw him kill Dumbledore after I failed I thought it sealed his fate. I never liked him as a person but I thought he was loyal to our cause. Imagine my outrage when I learned of his duplicity. He did save me in the end, for that I owe him allegiance. He's very old now and still putters around in his garden growing strange plants and mixing strange potions. I visit him periodically. Sometimes I don't think he recognizes me." He paused and added, "Perhaps he chooses not to. He has not forgiven me, I think."

'Why does he need to forgive me? I betrayed him of course. When I learned that he was not on our side I told Voldemort. I think he would have learned about it anyway." He shrugged.

"I suppose you're right. It is a miracle that he survived. Of course, as you know, he is blind. That was my aunt Bella's doing. But it hardly slows him down."

"Yes, I think Potter does go to see him sometimes. They were together in it in the end."

"You say 'describe the battle from my point of view'."

He stopped and studied the floor. " I won't go into detail. Men often don't talk about their experiences in war. If they were cowards and ran away and hid they want to keep that from the world. If they were brave, their bravery is often celebrated by their friends after their death. I want to say that I fought bravely. I didn't run and hide. We were at Hogwarts on the grounds, attacking from every angle. It was a slaughter. Wizards and witches were dying all over. Although I didn't care much about most of them, it was still frightening and awful. All I wanted to do was get to Potter first, you know, so that I could prove myself. I was under a death sentence, too. The Dark Lord didn't need me, didn't need to keep me alive any longer. He didn't want any competition from anyone that's why he killed my father. I was next. But I was naive in thinking that if I killed Potter I would be rewarded. After all, he wanted that pleasure for himself, didn't he?"

"I am a eighty four years old. I spent my youth in Azkaban. I never married and I have no children. I have never loved anyone, except perhaps my mother. I have done nothing of importance. I sit here in my father's house living off his wealth and I grow weary of life sometimes." He smiled wanly. "I still have many years ahead of me. Maybe someday I will be able to go out into the world again."

"You are welcome. If any of your reader's has any questions for me, forward them to my house elf, Pinky and she will sort through them. I'll try to get to them and answer when I have time."

"Pinky show our guest to the door."

Please forward your questions to Malfoy via this address and we shall attempt to have them answered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two Fudge

"I made some mistakes through the whole thing, I admit. On the whole I thought I did a decent job. It was a tough job. One can look back and see that I misperceived certain events, but who wouldn't. I truly did not believe the Potter boy. I did not believe that Voldemort was back until I saw him with my own eyes."

"Of course I was not Minister of Magic when he came to power the first time. I read about it in the papers and it filtered down to our division at the Ministry, I was head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and called away for long periods of time. I could hardly know what was taking place at home when it was kept on the hush-hush for so long."

"I do recall that the Potters were involved. And the Blacks. They were purebloods you know and didn't take kindly to anyone looking down on their son for marrying a muggle-born. Lily Potter was a pretty woman and she attracted people to her. I know Dumbledore was fond of her. But you see I didn't know them personally and only read about their deaths in the Daily Prophet. Very sad, very sad indeed." He hung his head and it bobbled on his neck with palsy.

"Yes, speaking of Dumbledore. I admired the old wizard, I truly did. We had disagreements of course. The Ministry had come to depend on his advice and took him into their confidence. He learned a great deal about the internal workings of the Ministry but refused on several occasions to take the job as Minister. It is a demanding job after all. I can say I am quite proud of the fact that I held the position for a long time."

"However, Dumbledore meddled too." He shook his heavy jowls and thumbed his lower lip. The hands that moved were ancient, wrinkled and purple-veined. He had been wearing a green bowler hat that he had in his lap and his suit and robe were wrinkle-free and neatly pressed. The fine brown hair was gone and in its place were a few wispy strands of white. "I was very sorry that he was murdered," he was saying, "but the Ministry was not at fault. He just would not listen and took no precautions."

He sighed. "In the end, he was right and I was wrong. Doesn't matter. It all came to a boil soon after."

"Harry Potter? You wish me to comment on Mr. P-P-Potter?" he stuttered. "He was a boy. I thought Dumbledore treated him...well spoiled him, should I say. Again I could not have known that he was not making it all up. Boys do tend to do that, don't they? There were so many stories about him being the Chosen One and all that. I never could quite get a handle on it all. Scrimgeour made the decision, you know, to try and have him and 'quarantined' to keep him safe. He was to be brought to the Ministry and held there. No, I wouldn't call it imprisonment. It was for his own good wasn't it."

"As it stood, it didn't work out. He escaped and ended up killing Voldemort anyway. He knew all about the Horcruxes you see. Dumbledore told him and involved him in the hunt. Horcruxes I say! How awful. Something like that had not been done probably for centuries. How Voldemort ever learned..."

"Yes, Scrimgeour demanded that reports be sent directly to him. But I read them of course. For security reasons I cannot even comment on it today. I can tell you that we did not have the necessary information soon enough. Then we were in the midst of the war and the Ministry was busy coordinating things. We had no standing army as you know. Therefore we...I... had to hustle about trying to get people to fight. It was my assigned duty and it was all very difficult. It was a stupendous embarrassment for me to have Scrimgeour take over my position. I don't know that he handled it any better than I did."

"Delores Umbridge? Why she was a friend of mine. I am sorry to say she perished during the battle and I won't talk ill of her. I don't know what became of her but she disappeared. We searched and could not find her."

He nodded and continued, "I learned of the Order of the Phoenix later. I had no idea that it was organized years and years ago when Voldemort first rose to power. They worked behind the scenes naturally. I've always thought of it as a vigilante group and not at all helpful. Those kinds of things are not good for the government. To this day I am not sure of the names of all the members. They were very secretive I will give them that. I believe that Dumbledore was the head."

He sat staring out of the window and then returned to fumble at the sleeve of his robe. "I did the best I could," he said to himself and frowned.

"Oh yes, sorry. My thoughts do tend to drift. It was a long time ago wasn't it? What was the question again? Voldemort. Well he was what he was. He tried to take control of...everything. He murdered people and had his Death eaters kill and torture people. He was just evil and a very frightening man- very powerful."

"Malfoy? Well of course he was one of his Death eaters. I was not aware of that mind you!" His index finger came up and wavered in the air as if to make a point. "Malfoy was a very smooth talker. He actually would have made a fine diplomat if he had not turned out so badly. He came from a wealthy, aristocratic family."

"Yes, on occasion I talked to him about issues. But again, I cannot be held responsible for the results since I did not know he was in league with the Dark Lord. His demise- should we say, since he is not really dead- from the Dementor's kiss was horrific. I wouldn't wish that for anyone. He is at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries but beyond anyone's healing reach."

"What was that? Oh yes, Draco ended up in Azkaban as did many of the Death eaters. They weren't sent there for life so many are now free and the Dementors are no longer there so conditions were more agreeable. I doubt they are causing much trouble. They are as old if not older than I am. Pettigrew and a few others that survived and were captured, who were very close to Voldemort, had their magical powers extracted and were sent to muggle prison. The very harshest of penalties, I should say."

"Would I care to say anything about anyone else you ask?" He rubbed his grisly chin and nodded. "Yes, yes I would. The Potters were murdered while Voldemort was trying to make a Horcrux. Has anyone looked into that? We still do not understand how the Potter boy got his scar and what the connection is. Does someone from the Department of Mysteries need to study Harry Potter? Will he become another Voldemort? That's all that I'm saying. He should be watched."

"I know that he has led what appears to be a very straightforward and productive life as you say. Still, no one has studied his children to see if there are signs." He waved a hand and it drifted towards his brow. "Perhaps you're right and something should have shown up years ago. What bothers me is that there is still one Horcrux missing. Where is it? Can it still cause harm?"

The nurse arrived with a tray of medicines and took the green bowler from his hat and laid it on the bed.

"You say that all of them were found?" He looked confused. "Were they destroyed? Well, I see that we must conclude our interview. Madam McGregor is fussy and wishes me to be in bed at an early hour. But come back again soon. I would really like to talk about this at length. I believe to this day that Voldemort had the right idea to some degree. The purebloods are dying out. What is to become of us when the line between our world and the muggle world fades so much that there is no distinction?"

He was standing at his bedside still talking and could be heard in the hallway as the door swung shut. "Why did they take my wand away from me? I'm not senile. I need it! Miss McGregor will you fetch my wand for me? Oh, yes I forgot that they broke it...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Ron Weasley

"Have you come to ask questions about Harry?" he asked almost immediately as he opened the door. His hand was poised on the knob. "That's all they ever want to know about." He dropped his ginger-colored lashes and blushed red. It was not all that unattractive in this man who was in his eighties. He still looked youthful, perhaps a person closer to sixty. He had aged well.

He moved through the neat little room, his hand drifting unconsciously over items that sat on every surface as if they were a touchstone to his memories and past.

"Sorry. I jumped ahead of myself. I guess it's my own fault when I start talking about the past. How could I not talk about Harry. There was a time when I wanted the celebrity when I was very young. But then we want all kinds of things when we are young. I was poor and my family was poor. I wanted money. I wanted to stop being poor. You can see that has happened. Did it bring me happiness? No, not much."

"I don't know about that. As you say, I had my share I guess. My name was always in the Daily Prophet alongside his, although there was not much they could write about. It seems like I was always in his shadow. I don't mind really! Or I should say I didn't mind. It became very clear that Harry was the target. After all, he was the Boy Who Lived. Harry was the subject of millions of conversations since the day he was born. After he arrived in our world he was always the focus of attention one way or another. A lot of it negative, I have to say. When the Ministry finally admitted that You-Know-Who was still alive then everyone knew he was the target."

"Besides, who would want to be in Harry's position anyway. Not me! But I did my share in the end. I fought in the war and I fought at his side even before the war started." He dropped easily down into a chair next to a window shaded by a tree and the sunlight dappled his face. There was a hard-won maturity there. "Yes. I can say that I did my share and it won't make a difference to anyone. That was sixty years ago. Who will remember it anyway, but those of us with one foot in the grave."

"No, I never married. I guess I decided that I never wanted anymore of my family to be in danger ever again. I lost my sister and my father. My mother is still living as are my brothers. Harry was the only one brave enough to marry. I think he decided that he had wasted his life anticipating death. When it didn't come he felt free to move on. I think Hermione felt the same way I did. She never married either."

He nodded. "Yes, I was attracted to her when we were in our teens. I loved her. I still do. That will never change. I love Harry. He was and is my best friend. I would give my life for both of them. But Hermione and I always thought it best not to push it too far. I'm not sure we would have been good for each other. Confidentially, I think she's a lot like my mother. I 'm not sure I needed two mothers." He smile enigmatically and then his stare turned serious. "We did try it out for two years and then parted."

"No, Harry and Hermione would never have been together. I think he was keen on my sister. That never took off though. She died a few years after the war from her wounds. It was a great tragedy for our family, being that she was the only girl. My brothers, Fred and George never got over it. I've...well...I've always felt responsible for her death even though I wasn't there when it happened." He looked sad and brushed at his trouser leg anxiously.

"Harry? Well he stood by her side until her death. That was one thing about him that never changed. He was always loyal. I think...," he passed a hand over his eyes and then continued, "he never really stopped searching for a family. Someone to love and to love him in return. I'm happy to say I think he found it."

"Start from the beginning you say," he mused and lit the pipe one more time and drew on it. His eyes grew slightly vacant as he drifted back into the past. "How many times must the past be talked about? What I say now and what I said then has not changed."

"All right then," he replied. " I will tell my story again. I am getting old and there may not be another chance so I shall tell it. I hope you'll excuse me if I fall asleep in the middle of telling it." He chuckled and once again the youthfulness shone in his face.

" Mind you," he said stabbing at the air with the stem of his pipe, "if I find my words have been twisted I shall register a complaint!"

He shrugged himself into the chair to make himself comfortable and began to talk.

"We were already in the thick of it when we were only eleven years old. I met Harry on the Hogwarts Express on our way to school. From then on we were together. It was the same with Hermione. We were children and really had no idea of the magnitude of the problem. You have heard of our exploits ad nauseum. It has been the subject of history that is even now taught at school. It has been written about so many times I surprised anyone would read about it. Are you interested in that?"

"Very well I shall start there. It was our last year at school when the war broke out. We knew about the Horcruxes and were searching for them and for a way to destroy them. Hermione and I felt that it was the only way Harry had a chance of surviving. Dumbledore was dead, Snape was accused of his murder and there was uncertainty about our future and Hogwarts."

"The Order of the Phoenix was taken over by Lupin. It was in shambles. I mean Dumbledore was dead, Sirius Black was dead and there was no one to stand against the Dark Lord and his Death eaters. My parents and others who were in the Order when it began were there but they were few in number. And they had children that they didn't want to endanger. As I said, that always presents a problem. Harry was worried about endangering us and there was nothing he could do. As long as we were friends we were at risk. Ah well..."

He frowned and drew on the pipe and began again. "Anyway, it was different with Lupin being the head of the Order. He was a werewolf and couldn't just stroll through Diagon Alley. It's not like it is now where there were so few of them. They hadn't invented the cure and there were thousands of them. The Dark Lord had an especially vicious werewolf, Fenrir, who liked to bite and kill. He made a lot of them and they roamed the land. They were almost unstoppable."

"But back to the main issue. The Ministry certainly wasn't up to the task of taking on the Dark Lord. Fudge was forced to step down as Minister, but Scrimgeour was no better. He had Harry arrested just before we were to head off for our seventh year at Hogwarts. What he didn't know was that Harry was protected by a charm as long as he lived with his muggle Aunt and Uncle during the summer months. Scrimgeour inadvertently broke the charm early by having his Aurors go to the house to get Harry."

"We found out about it by seeing it in the Daily Prophet. My dad was in the Ministry and immediately went to see what was up. Hermione literally flew to my house. I mean flew. She hated brooms, but she found one! She could have apparated, yes, I suppose. It's not like it is today with all the new laws protecting wizards. It was tricky then. The Ministry could track you if you used apparation. Anyway, we devised a plan to rescue him and gathered together some friends that had helped us before, like; Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, my sister, Ginny and Fred and George."

"How? We kidnapped my brother Percy and used the Imperious Curse on him," he answered bluntly. "He did all the work really. Everyone else just stood watch and then we used Neville's house to stash Harry away."

"No, I guess it wasn't all that simple. At the time, it was quite harrowing." He laughed to himself and chewed the pipe stem. "Hermione will tell you about that if you talk to her. The worst that happened to me was that I had to have my ear reattached."

He sobered a moment later. "Don't take me wrong. I don't think any of it was funny. There were moments I thought I would never survive to live to grow old. From the time we rescued Harry until the war, the three of us were hunted."

"Horcruxes? Well we knew what they were. Dumbledore had helped Harry on that. You-Know-Who...Why do I still call him that?" He studied his fingernails for a moment and answered. "I always thought it the safest thing to do. Why draw attention to yourself when it isn't necessary. Blend in. That's my motto. Stay in the background. You see things that no one else does."

"It was different when I played Quidditch." He snuffed and then continued, "Harry destroyed one of the Horcruxes when he rescued my sister. He used the Gryffindor sword to kill the basilisk and then stabbed the diary. You probably have heard the story as a bedtime tale. But it's pretty factual. So that left the Gaunt ring, Hufflepuff cup, the locket which Harry and Dumbledore retrieved the night Dumbledore died. Who substituted the real thing for the fake was never discovered. However we all decided it was Regulus Black . The initials fit you see. The real locket did come to light later on as you probably know. It was found at the Black house after the fire destroyed it."

"You've probably heard the story of the wizard who actually picked it up out of the rubble. Yes, it was awful." he nodded and paused.

"Anyway, that left two. There is always one that resides in the person and You-Know-Who made seven. We had accounted for four."

He sighed heavily and continued, "The last two? The crown, the Ravenclaw crown, was discovered and sent to the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic and it has a twenty-four hour guard. It has been protected for sixty years. Harry and Hermione and I take turns in going there to see it."

" The second one? Well...Hermione figured it out. Cedric Diggory and Harry were transported to a graveyard during the Triwizard Tournament and You-Know-Who resurrected himself there. He needed one of the Horcruxes in order to do it. So he used one, you see."

"What it says in history is a little different then what Harry told us at the time. You-Know-Who chose an item from each house at Hogwarts. The Hufflepuff Ring for example. They were items that were significant to him, like his grandfather's ring; it was Slytherin's ring. It was likely that he used a Gryffindor object to resurrect himself in the graveyard. Peter Pettigrew helped him do it and he was Gryffindor."

"No we never discovered what it was." He shook his head. "I'm sure it is gone."

He stood and slowly walked across the room and retrieved a mahogany box from one of the shelves of the study. It was long a cylindrical and very familiar to every witch and wizard. It was a wand box with gold lettering on the top: Ollivander's Wands.

"Yes. But it's empty. I found this when the three of us searched the old Riddle mansion. Harry and Hermione didn't think much of it." He looked up. "They discounted my belief that it was the Gryffindor wand and Riddle used it in the graveyard. Who knows where his wand went when he was exiled from his own body. That happened the night he tried to kill Harry and succeeded with his parents. Someone may have found his wand there at the house."

"They both used to do that a lot. I guess I wasn't good at using my brains when I was young. I wasn't as brilliant as Hermione that's for sure. Harry just got by as far as studies went. He wasn't a lot better than me. He was clever though. It seems that he just fell into the answers sometimes. So I kept the box and never brought up the subject again. I've never talked about it before now."

"What!" His hands trembled and he dropped the box. "It has been found? No! That cannot be. Well...they must not touch it. They must..." He stood once again, his hand to his forehead. "Oh, that cannot be."

Ten minutes later, a cup of tea sitting on the table at his side, the purple box laying next to it, he finally looked up. "No we never discovered how to destroy them. If he is back- then the world as we know it is about to change."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four Hermione and Snape

"Now Ron, don't get overly excited," the woman said, her head bent over the writing desk. Her quill moved across the parchment with lightening speed as she dictated. "No...no, don't write that down!" she said, reprimanding the quill. She looked up with a frown on her face, one brow lifted. "So what if they found the Gryffindor wand. No one has tested it to see if it is a real Horcrux. Secondly, even if it is that doesn't mean Voldemort will return. We have one intact Horcrux at the Department of Mysteries and he hasn't resurrected himself. There are none of his Death Eaters left, or none that would dare to assist him. We searched and found nothing left of him as you well know."

She stood and walked forward ignoring the old man that faced her.

"I really don't have anything to say to you. I've answered questions about this for years and really it's gotten boring. If you must then read my autobiography." She stood, hands on hips, her spine straight as an arrow and clenched her jaw in defiance. The spark of her temperament had not faded in the years since her youth.

"You have, have you? You're probably the only one that's ever read it then," she muttered and turned back to Ron Weasley. "You haven't bothered Harry with this have you?"

He didn't answer. He dropped his head and stared at the floor and that was enough of an answer for her.

"Well don't!" She pulled her long skirt around, marched back up to the desk that sat on a small stage and lifted her wand once again and prepared to sit. "Let the Ministry handle this. Minister Cobb is a capable man," she said quietly and waved a hand of dismissal in his direction.

It seemed that Ron Weasley was about to turn and make his way back to the door through the darkness of the classroom. The only light was the candelabra that sat at her writing desk. It illuminated that corner of the room well enough but left elongated shadows along the walls that reached up into the cathedral ceiling. Their own shadows cast horrific images on the stone and it made the room feel creepy.

It was obvious that Hermione Granger had spent many hours in this room and must have found it comforting. It was well past midnight and she was still working even at her age.

She hesitated, her head down studying the work at hand and then raised her head. "Have you gone to Snape?"

"That ancient old..." Weasley didn't finish his words.

"He's old but not senile Ron," she snapped. "We both know that he would know what to do. Go to him first before you bother Harry." She waited and added, "Nothing of this can be made public. If there is any danger it must be kept quiet until a decision is made. What happened before cannot happen again. The fear and panic and bloodshed would be unbearable." Her face was lit by the candlelight and she studied the room as if it were empty and she was alone. "I don't think I could stand it if it happened again." She whispered the words and seemed to collapse into the seat.

Ron turned to leave.

"Wait! I'm coming with you." She rose and flicked her wand, adorning herself immediately in a traveling robe. "He's always less cranky when I come with you."

She marched ahead through the dark corridors. Lamps came on suddenly as they passed, the soft light warming the cold hallways. The castle had not changed over the hundreds of years it had been in existence. There were scars, yes, from the war that threatened to destroy Hogwarts and all the wizards and witches that sought to protect it. But there were older scars and marks that spoke of other battles. The castle seemed to watch them, to breath, to whisper in inaudible words. It seemed alive.

The only place to apparate was on the boundaries. There were old ruins off to the side that were Hagrid's old hut. He had long since returned to the hills to live with his brother and what was left of their kind. Through interbreeding they had managed to hang on, although they were a much smaller version of the true-blood giants of old.

The cottage was hidden in a grove of trees. A small walkway curved through the front garden and only until the front door was reached could one see any light on in the windows. It was the glow of a fire burning in the grate and nothing else.

"Well he's blind," Ron said. "He doesn't need light does her?" He reached for the door knocker and lifted it and hesitated.

"Oh, go on Ron," Hermione grumbled behind him. "It's cold out here. We needn't stand here like school children."

The door opened and a tall man stood in the dark. His voice was low and deep. "Hello Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. You have brought a stranger with you and it is the middle of the night and so it must be important for you to disturb my peace. Come in."

The foyer suddenly brightened with light. The furnishings in the hallway and the study were a surprise. Although somewhat austere, the tables and shelves were adorned with beautiful and interesting objects d'art and the room was warm and inviting.

He moved easily around the furniture and returned to a leather chair. A book lay on the table next to him and was still reading to him. He waved a hand and the book stopped and lay silent.

It was easy to see the scar that stretched across his face running through his eyes and turning them into cold gray orbs. They stared sightlessly into the dark over their shoulders.

His hair was still black belying his age and his face was heavily lined with wrinkles. There was no expression on his face and he didn't speak.

"Yes, he brought news that the last Horcrux was found," Ron said. He wiped his hands on his trousers nervously and cleared his throat. "It was the Gryffindor wand as I surmised years ago."

The white eyes turned.

"You know this for a fact?" he asked quietly.

There was silence in the room for a heartbeat.

"Do you have any suggestions Severus?" Hermione asked. Her voice was warm and tender. Unlike her friend, Hermione did not appear nervous or anxious.

A discussion ensued.

"So it was found and then lost again," Ron was saying. "It's not in a safe place Snape. That's what we're trying to tell you. There's a chance it will find it's way to Harry."

"Oh that would be horrible," Hermione gasped. "You didn't say anything about this before!" She was hissed at Ron.

"First, there is no way to determine if it is a real Horcrux," Snape said, rising and going to a side table where a pot of tea and four cups rested. He waved his wand and poured the tea into the cups and levitated it to a table before them. "Secondly, it may just mean someone is up to some schoolboy mischief. This has been tried before by dozens of pranksters. They read the history and think it funny to stir up everyone's fears."

"But..." Hermione began and he raised a hand.

"I am not finished Miss Granger."

"Severus, when are you going to call me Hermione. Isn't it about time especially if we are once again facing danger."

The pale face and dull sightless eyes turned to her. "And thirdly," he continued, "Mr. Potter is quite capable of dealing with it if it is a hoax. Just send him an owl and outline what you know."

"The evidence says that we are dealing with the real thing," she said stirring milk into her tea with a little more vigor than necessary. "I wouldn't...we wouldn't have come at this late hour if I thought it a hoax. Perhaps we should look into it a little more, take it more seriously. Think of the consequences if we don't."

Snape sat, his hands folded in his lap, his tea untouched.

Hermione continued, "You...we know that you have found a way to test these objects. If it were brought to you then you could determine its authenticity."

He nodded.

"Then we'll find it," Ron said.

"Aren't you a little too old to be on a scavenger hunt?" Snape said crisply.

"Oh really!" Hermione snapped. "Enough! The two of you have snarled at each other for too long. This is important. If the information is correct then we must act. I'll contact Harry. However, Severus, I would like some suggestions as to how to identify this thing if it is real so I don't end up at St. Mungo's with a bad case of mental rot."

The room was quiet except for the crackling fire.

Snape finally reached for his tea without groping. It was as if he were still sighted. "Perhaps it is best left to the Ministry. I am old and tired Miss Granger. I would prefer to spend my last years in peace and not think of such matters anymore."

"What he's telling us matches the descriptions of the Gryffindor wand. I looked it up at Hogwarts library." Ron spoke quietly and sipped at his tea.

Hermione and Snape stared at him.

"I've been known to frequent a library in my time," Ron said in a huff. "I have the empty case as you well know. There's every reason to believe that my family is related to Gryffindor. I've done the research into our family tree. I know what it looks like and the inscription on the gold handle." He turned. "You tell them. Tell them what it looked like and what it said.

Hermione listened and frowned and Snape sat thoughtfully rubbing the chair arm. There was a worn spot there as if he had worried at it for some time.

"See. That's it exactly. It's eight inches long with a gold handle and a lion head on the end. It's made of oak. The inscription says, 'Courage lives with those in the arena who continue to strive, to err and to succeed, and call not brother or sister those timid souls who have never tried and have never known victory or defeat'.

"That's what the inscription says?" Hermione mumbled her tea left to turn cold in her hand.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "Gryffindors are chosen by the Sorting Hat for their courage." He shrugged as if to say it wasn't his fault.

"I'll go to Harry tomorrow," Hermione said and nodded, sighing heavily. "I wouldn't want one of his children to run across it. If it is a saboteur or a terrorist who has it and approached Harry then he needs to be warned. I'd feel awful if it were given to Harry Jr. or Savanah. He's kept them out of it for a long time. And his grandchildren are still too vulnerable. They've lived with his legacy all their lives. He would go out of his mind if any of them were hurt."

Snape turned to answer the question. "Yes, I have found the way to destroy a Horcrux. Since it was not necessary to divulge the information to anyone then I have kept it to myself."

Ron glared at him. "You know how to destroy one?! How?"

Hermione shushed him and then kept silent as if waiting for Snape's answer.

Snape rose once again and walked to the side bureau once again, produced a gold chain from a pocket which held a key. he unlocked a drawer and brought out a small ring box of purple velvet, turned and handed it to Hermione. His reach was accurate and she had all but to reach up and take it, which she did.

She opened it and gasped and turned to Ron who paled when he saw the contents. She sat the box on the table and the small jewel glistened in the light of the fire.

It was a time-turner.

Time crawled by as they sat and looked at it. Snape returned to his chair.

"You mean to go back in time," Hermione whispered. "To destroy Voldemort before he can make the Horcruxes. That is my guess."

Snape nodded.

"It would change history."

He nodded again.

Hermione looked at Ron. Our lives could be totally different then they are now. Maybe better."

"Or worse," Snape said evenly. "It is a risk I have not been prepared to take."

It was Hermione's turn to nod slowly. Ron remained silent and looked glum.

"I thought they were all destroyed," Hermione said, once again picking up the box.

"Minerva McGonagall gave this to a student so that student could attend a number of classes simultaneously." This time Snape's face slowly transformed. It almost looked like he was smiling.

Hermione sucked up her breath and she and Ron shared a glance.

"I stole it from her," Snape admitted. "I thought it might come in handy sometime."

"And you never thought to use it so that you could stop Bella from blinding you?" Hermione said.

Snape shook his head slowly. "That would have been a waste wouldn't it."

She looked at him with a look of admiration. "Tomorrow then. I'll go to Harry. We'll all agree to keep this quiet. If others were to find out they'd think that Harry would be corrupted by the Horcrux in the wand and the witch-hunt would begin."

She sat the box down and looked up to see everyone staring at her. "Oh, sorry. It's a muggle term. It means...well never mind. You all know what it means. Good night Severus."

She rose and walked to the door and stepped into the night.


End file.
